


What. We. Deserve.

by DoeEyedButterFly



Series: What. We. Deserve. [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoeEyedButterFly/pseuds/DoeEyedButterFly
Summary: I never thought, I would write a fanfiction but the day came when I had an idea for a different ending, so here it is...Thanks so much for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it.





	What. We. Deserve.

**There is always a fine line between just enough and a little too much. A lesson Arcadia Bay’s most beloved daughter had yet to learn.  
**  

All it took, was a confident wipe with the sleeve of her red flannel shirt. Dark sweet cherry red vanished from her lips, marking her clothing, some of it smeared across her face, leaving the milky skin around her mouth with stripes, until long slender fingers with dark-sky blue painted nails softly rubbed them off her cheeks and as she watched the other girl's smile grow bigger and brighter, until it reached her incredibly intense blue eyes, she couldn't help but wonder, how on earth the lap of one single person could feel so comfortable, so comforting, so safe and warm. Just like a home... better than that in fact and for a moment, maybe not even two seconds, but too long before their lips met, she refused to take into consideration, that at one point, she would have to get up.

In retrospect, Rachel Amber questioned a lot of things. One of them, why she even bothered to wear lipstick every other day, why she would spend such an amount of time and efford into coating her lips evenly, why she cared so much about her looks anyway. What difference did it really make? The person she wanted to look as good as possible for, couldn't stand 'cherry red' at all and wiped it off of her, at any given chance.  
  
Although wearing custom-made costumes and expensive outfits on and off stage and experimenting with make-up, making her peers look up to her in awe, was exciting and what she wanted to keep doing in the future, a gnawing feeling deep inside her, forced the question, if on the other hand, random strangers coming up to her to compliment on her figure, the daily catcalling and certain looks from jealous classmates, were really worth it all and if she truly was as fulfilled, as she thought, she would be.  
  
Therefore, as she enjoyed tender kisses, each one carefully planted on her jaw, neck and collarbone, she made the decision to let go of just one more thing that wouldn't be a part of her life anymore and when the affection she was given intensified, Rachel buried the now unuseful item, an expensive red lipstick, she once paid good money for, deep down in her old black backpack.   
 

  
 * * * *  
  
  
Her tongue felt dry and heavy and her head hurt as if someone had previously smashed a hammer into her temple. The bitter, yet somehow raw taste in her mouth made her cringe, as she slowly tried to open her eyes,... counting to three, before quickly sitting up and when she turned around, groaning because of the pain in her body, and got on her knees, she realized that her shoes, as well as her ankle socks and new purple flannel shirt were gone and given how thirsty she was, Rachel assumed, she had passed out a couple hours ago.  
  
Her eyes widened, as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to panic, but from the pain she could feel in her back, Rachel could already tell, she must have been carelessly dropped onto the cold hard ground, prior to waking up in here. A room so bright, it hurt. A room, she had been in before quite some time ago.   
  
  
  
* * * *   
  
  
She was told more than once in her young life, she looked like a raccoon while eating, munching on food, stuffing it in her face as fast as possible. The girl sitting next to her, whose worn-out red flannel shirt Chloe first grabbed to take it off it's owner, and later, to cover herself up at least partially, after being pushed into the battered seats of her own truck and showered with a million soft kisses, used to laugh and joke about it every now and then and while Chloe kept shoving cold fries into her mouth, Rachel stayed busy playing with both of their bellybuttons and asking herself, if and where she would ever get more piercings, besides the few ones her ears were already sporting.   
  
Sooner than expected, the sun set and a chill breeze caught the girls, just as Chloe scrunched up the now empty paper bag, which held her fries before and rolled up the car windows. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a stray dog approaching the truck and before it got around to lift one leg to mark it's new territory, she slammed the signal-horn and scared both the animal and the cute girl in the passenger seat. Rachel shook her head reprehensively, yet smirking. As much as she loved dogs, luckily for her, the blue-haired girl next to her, was a cat-person.  
When Chloe hit the gas just one moment later, searching for the right tune to drive the girl she was in love with home, she wished the day would never have to end.  
  
  
  
* * * *   
  
  
"Over ninety percent of people do not return, once they get kidnapped. I will not ever let anyone take you away." Her father's words echoed in Rachel's aching head, as she remembered every serious lesson about safety, she ever had to endure, from how to stay safe on campus to how not to end up homeless. "... but _if_ someone manages to take you from one area to another, here is what you need to do..."

Stay focussed, think rationally, be present in the moment and take one step at a time, Rachel repeated like a mantra, over and over and over again.  
After carefully checking herself for any injuries, bruises or bleeding, Rachel tried to fully get up, but felt a sudden dizziness doing so. The bitter taste in her mouth wouldn't go away, so she briefly considered forcing herself to throw up, like she had done a couple of times before, back when she desperately tried to lose some weight. Just incase someone did poisen her earlier, but then she decided not to, because she didn't want to feel sick, if the person who brought her here, was to come back any time soon.  
  
The backpockets of her shorts felt empty, as she patted them, no keys, no phone, no wallet,... of course not. Rachel desperately searched the room with her eyes, for her personal belongings and tried to guess how much time had passed, since she was fully conscious. One step at a time.  
Since her body refused to let her stand, let alone walk, she got on her hands and knees and moved forward crawling, making sure to touch absolutely everything she could find. She left her fingerprints everywhere, even on an empty bottle of whiskey, on her way over to the coffee table in the middle of the room, she brushed over a white sofa with both her hands and after short hesitation, spat on it and rubbed it in. DNA everywhere...  
  
'Ironic', was what came to her mind as she tried to calm herself down. At any given time, whenever she entered a room, everyone noticed, people just knew, that Rachel was there and tried to get her attention... this time, she convinced herself, would be no different. She would personally take care of it. Everyone would know, Rachel was here and by that, desperate, yet determined, she started to pull her own hair, faster and harder, each time she painfully ripped strand after strand until a pile of long mid-blond hair covered the ice-cold floor tiles between her shaky legs. From there she promtly picked them up, rolled every single one into a little ball and threw them in every direction, as far into the room as possible, the last one, she hid under the sofa.  
  
Rachel's left hand, missing a certain blue bracelet, wiped one lost tear off her face, her head hurt so much, her back ached, the pain was almost to much to bear. Just as she tried to get up on her feet one more time, lurking through a transparent curtain, that seperated the room from the entrance, she spotted it... her backpack. It sat right by the door.  
  
  
  
* * * *   
 

"Kiss me goodnight." It was hardly a question, not an order either, more a solid demand, a desperate plea - like a wish upon a star, easy to fulfill, not a challenge, like most things seemed nowaydays and when Chloe smiled and pulled her into a close hug, bend her head to kiss the campus curfew breaking rebel girl in front of her, Rachel felt her heart pounding heavily in her chest, realizing, she had to get inside, the night was already falling and her absence from her dorm room would not go unnoticed by Blackwell's security officers... but when Chloe carefully placed her hand under Rachel's chin, lift it up a bit and licked her own lips, before she made them meet, Rachel just couldn't and wouldn't, let go, so she held on tight, closed her eyes and gave in, soft, wet and warm. Chloe was her safe haven after all. Nothing could ever change that.  
Rachel still felt the touch of Chloe's hands on her face, fifteen minutes later, when she turned around, waved and closed the gate shut behind her.  


* * * *   
 

Locked. She jolted and shook. Sealed. She hammered and pounded. Nothing worked,... of course not. Obviously it was a trap and she was like a bird in a cage. Rachel grabbed her backpack and quickly rummaged through it, no keys, no phone, no wallet,... nothing she could possibly use as a weapon to scare a person off or defend herself. Her heart sunk... and then her fingers touched a small item, deep inside the backpack, right at the bottom, she used to carry around, not bigger than the palm of her hand... the lable read 'cherry red'. 

Rachel twisted and turned the high priced lipstick in her hand, as she made up her mind. The door she was crouching in front of, was her only escape, she was freezing, thirsty, confused, disoriented and in a lot of pain, so she pulled the cap off the stick and turned it all the way out, at this point, she had nothing and yet everything that meant something to her, to lose and with a last good look at the exit door to the dark room, she came to the conclusion, that there would be a confrontation, maybe sooner than later.  
Careful, not to break the lipstick in half, she took it in one hand, then switched to the other and picked a spot, slightly hidden, but visible for observing eyes, in the corner next to were she was sitting and began to write her name on the white tiles, only one thing in mind: she would not go down without a fight.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought, I would write a fanfiction but the day came when I had an idea for a different ending, so here it is...
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it.


End file.
